


tap the vein that bleeds

by untouchableocean



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M, Singapore Grand Prix 2014, Spanking, dont oppress me, i'll tag that one but everything else is pretty run of the mill horny, people are going to get sick of my checo horny, some normal regular come eating. the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22232872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/pseuds/untouchableocean
Summary: Checo swallows nervously at the thought of what he’s about to do - what he’s about to let Nico do. Nico rubs his lap and sits back a little, glancing up at Checo with a lazy pout.“Come on then.”
Relationships: Nico Hulkenberg/Sergio Perez
Comments: 5
Kudos: 42





	tap the vein that bleeds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ricciardhoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricciardhoes/gifts).

> can't a broski just want to fuck checo over a bed? maybe call him some german terms of endearment? is that too much to ask?  
title from post blue by placebo. working title was "wow im horny."  
dedicated to meg, whom i love with my whole heart and who constantly indulges my checo horny

He stands naked in front of Nico, arms clutched awkwardly to his chest. Nico’s sitting on the edge of the bed, white dress shirt stark against his jeans, and Checo swallows nervously at the thought of what he’s about to do - what he’s about to let Nico do. Nico smirks at him and Checo blushes as he feels his dick rising. Nico rubs his lap and sits back a little, glancing up at Checo with a lazy pout.

“Come on then.”

Checo licks his lips and shakily steps forwards until he’s sitting in Nico’s lap, being pulled down by his hair for Nico to kiss him. He whines louder than he’d meant to when Nico scrapes his nails down his sides, dropping his head to the crook of Nico’s neck but Nico grabs his hair again, yanking him so he’s sitting upright in his lap and looking him dead in the eyes.

“Embarrassed?”

Checo blushes and narrowly stops himself from biting his lip. Nico’s expression is just as cruelly mocking as it always is; he always manages to stare straight through Checo, his gaze burning into his soul and laying it bare, insecurities nothing but a new playground to explore. He nods, the movement exacerbated by Nico janking his hand along with him on the back of his head.

“Don’t be, it’s only me, yeah?”

Nico smiles almost uncomfortably wide and rubs his hand over Checo’s jaw, pressing his thumb into his mouth and running it over his front teeth. After a moment he pulls his thumb out and gently smacks Checo’s cheek. He barely feels it, and Checo almost wants to beg him to do it harder, but he’s not quite lost all of his dignity yet.

“Okay, c’mon-”

He doesn’t bother to finish his sentence before he’s manhandling Checo until he’s lying across his lap, dick rubbing tantalisingly against Nico’s jeans. Checo buries his face in the bedsheets and lets Nico pull at his hips, shuffling his knees so he’s not falling off the bed, although he knows Nico’s got him safe. Nico runs his hand over Checo’s arse, and he shudders at the feeling - the light touch leaves him pushing back, needing more.

“Calm down _ Liebling, _ I’ll do it when I’m ready.”

He digs his nails in and Checo groans into the mattress, turning his face a little so Nico can hear him.

“Can you just do it now?”

“Cute.” Checo shuffles but Nico grips him hard, holding him in place. “Beg for it.”

Checo bites the inside of his cheek and pushes back one last time, as best he can with Nico still holding him in place. His voice is whiny and it’s demeaning, having to beg, but the way he can feel his cock twitch as he does it says more than he’d like it to.

“Please Nico, please, please…” He pushes away the voice in his head telling him to keep quiet, that he’s making himself look pathetic. He sighs and mumbles the words he’s been keeping in since they got to the room. “...spank me.”

“Aw, babe, you only had to ask.”

Nico brings his hand down hard, and Checo cries out at the force of it, biting back a yelp as Nico scratches over where he just hit. He ghosts over the other side, and Checo braces himself, clenching his teeth behind his closed lips. Nico’s hand comes down again and even though he’s ready this time he still yells, muffled as he shoves his face into the sheets. Nico runs his broad hand up Checo’s back, making him tremble a little as he reaches the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck. He scratches almost tenderly at the sensitive skin, and Checo pushes his cheek further into the sheet to avoid squeaking at the ticklish feeling.

“I’m gonna do ten now, and I want you to count them for me, alright?”

Checo nods and Nico brings his hand to rest on Checo’s waist. The first hit stings, the skin already tender, and Checo breathes out “one,” doing his best not to bite the sheets. Nico only gives him a couple of seconds to recover before he hits him again, the flat of his palm staying on his ass for a second, and squeezing as he pulls away.

“Two.”

He doesn’t know if Nico’s actually upping the force or if he’s just getting sore already, but Nico seems to come down harder every time, and by the seventh Checo can feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“Seven-_ fuck, _ Nico, it hurts,” he whispers, barely audible.

“Aw, _ Schatzi, _ it’s kind of supposed to.” His mocking sympathy sends a shiver down Checo’s spine and he gently caresses Checo’s lower back, deliberately avoiding his ass, leaving it in the open air. “Only three more, you’re doing so well, okay?”

Checo breathes deeply and nods, finally letting out a sob as Nico’s palm makes contact again, his tongue stumbling over itself as he chokes out “eight,” nuzzling his cheek into the mattress and staring at the blackness behind his eyelids. When the final hit lands, he lets out a sigh, bringing his arm round to wipe his eyes dry.

“Okay?”

Checo goes to push himself up but finds himself just laying there, and he swallows, cheeks turning pink in the dim light.

“Can you-” He groans, and he can’t believe he’s even asking this. “Can you do it again?”

He can’t see Nico, but he can always tell when he’s smirking - like some kind of sixth sense but for assholes.

“You sure?”

Checo nods and Nico trails his fingertips across his ass, even the light touches making his skin catch fire.

“Okay, ten more, and you don’t have to count them this time. Sound good?” Checo nods and closes his eyes, mentally preparing himself. “I mean, you can if you want, but they’ll probably be too fast.”

Checo barely has time to process that before Nico hits him hard, then again, then again, no pauses between them at all. Checo jolts his leg involuntarily and finally allows himself to bite down on the bedsheets, if only to muffle his cries. When it’s over, he pushes himself up onto his palms, but Nico pulls him up so he’s sitting back up in his lap. He steadies himself on Nico’s shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline.

“That was...that was twelve.”

Nico smiles and brings his hand up to cup Checo’s jaw, his touch disconcertingly soft, and Checo tenses, bracing himself for a slap that doesn’t come.

“Oh, angel,” Checo flushes at the nickname and Nico squeezes his cheek affectionately. “You _ did _count them.”

Checo tries to look away but Nico turns his head, bringing him in for a kiss. He drags his hands down Checo’s back and squeezes at his ass, and Checo whimpers into the kiss, the pain a sharp stinging sensation that only worsens as Nico pulls his cheeks apart. Nico moves his arm to hold Checo steady at the waist when he reaches across the bed for the lube, and Checo almost wishes they could stay just like this; half embraced in a barely lit hotel room, everything silent and still apart from the beating of their hearts.

Checo closes his eyes and tucks his face into Nico’s neck again, letting Nico move them slightly so that he won’t fall off the edge of the bed. He sticks his ass out, and Nico murmurs a husky “good boy” into his ear as he rubs at his hole, pushing two slick fingers in far too easily. Checo keens and Nico shushes him softly, his free hand stroking through Checo’s hair as he whispers streams of sugary sweet praise.

Nico adds a third finger and curls them perfectly, and Checo moans as he pushes back, desperately trying to fuck himself on Nico’s fingers. Nico pulls out and clutches Checo’s waist, holding him steady as he shakes with anticipation. Checo tentatively presses himself closer to Nico so their chests are almost touching, separated only by the thin cloth of Nico’s shirt, and he shifts himself so Nico has space to finally undo his jeans and pull out his cock.

Nico spreads the lube over his dick and wipes his hand on the sheet before gripping at Checo’s ass again, ignoring his wail of pain as he roughly lifts Checo into place. He lines himself up and Checo weakly keeps himself up, his death grip on Nico’s shoulders probably enough to leave bruises.

“Ready?”

Checo takes a deep breath before sinking down onto Nico’s cock, groaning and letting his head fall back as Nico fills him; his body feels like it’s on fire, Nico’s hands burning marks into his hips as he pushes him down. Nico shudders as he bottoms out, and Checo revels in moments like this, when Nico is the one to shake and gasp and almost, _ almost _ lose control.

It burns as Nico digs his nails into his arse, encouraging him to start moving. He can’t stop himself from sighing as Nico sucks a bruise onto his collarbone, biting sharply as he pulls away. He mumbles unintelligibly into Checo’s neck, the featherlight touch driving him insane as he keeps bouncing up and down.

When Nico mumbles something that sounds like _ “mine,” _Checo whines and brushes his cheek against Nico’s hair in a pitiful show of submission. He knows there’s no point in trying to play power games with Nico here; he can’t win, and he knows it. Of course, it’s a different story on-track, but if Nico comes to his room after a bad race, he’ll let himself be pushed to his knees, satisfied with the knowledge that he’s got power over Nico where it matters.

Nico moves his hips and thrusts up slightly and Checo’s caught completely off guard, almost going totally limp as Nico nudges his prostate. He tries to moan but it’s more of a cut off cry, and he struggles to keep pushing himself up and down, his legs starting to ache with the exertion. He’d been in the car all day, and the fatigue is starting to set in, a dull ache in his legs and knees that’s sure to get worse if he keeps going. Nico notices he’s slowing down and moves his hands up to Checo’s face, cradling his florid cheeks in his hands.

“Not getting tired already, are you?” Checo closes his eyes to avoid looking directly at Nico, nodding pathetically as Nico keeps jerking his hips. “Aw, don’t worry _ Schatz, _I’ve got you.”

Nico lifts Checo up and rolls him so he’s lying on his back, legs hanging ungraciously off the side of the bed. He pulls his jeans down a bit more, grabs Checo’s legs and pulls them so he’s holding his shins, and barely takes a second to line himself up before pushing back into Checo at full force. Checo gasps soundlessly, his breath catching in his throat at the shock of it, but as Nico starts thrusting, he soon starts instinctively making small, choked off noises, covering his face with his arm to muffle the sounds.

Nico digs his nails into Checo’s shins and Checo whines from behind his arm, unable to form proper words. He doesn’t want to give Nico the satisfaction of hearing him babbling in Spanish, even if it’s just random nonsensical sentence fragments; he could probably recite the technical regs in Spanish and Nico would come on the spot. He glances at Nico from under heavy eyelids, and the sight of him still fully dressed and towering above him as he fucks him makes Checo’s vision blur with lust.

Checo cries out as Nico speeds up, going harder and harder, and the bed shakes a bit as Checo’s pushed back and forwards helplessly. He lets his arm fall away from his face, hot tears mingling with sweat as he stares at the ceiling, panting and moaning and trying his best not to descend into mindless sobbing as Nico slams into him. Checo bites his lip and can’t find it in himself to do anything other than lie back and take it, and he thinks he finally understands the phrase _ getting your brains fucked out. _

He can’t take it anymore and he slowly moves his hand down to finish himself off, trembling as he comes after just a few strokes. Nico’s thrusts start to falter and he pulls out, letting go of Checo’s legs and quickly jacking himself off until he comes over Checo’s stomach. Checo breathes fast, slowly coming back to reality, but Nico’s soon on top of him, pushing him up the bed until he’s lying against the soft pillows.

“Look, _ Liebling, _you made a mess. Well, we both made a mess I guess.” Nico runs two fingers through the ropes of come on Checo’s stomach. “You made a mess on yourself, and I made a mess of you.”

Nico brings his come covered fingers up to Checo’s mouth, and Checo’s eyes widen as he realises what he’s about to do. Nico presses his fingertips to Checo’s lips, and Checo parts them, letting Nico slowly push his fingers all the way into his mouth. They slide against his tongue, and the bitter taste of come makes him gag, especially the knowledge that at least some of it is his own.

Nico pulls out when his fingers are clean and reaches down again, scraping up as much come as he can onto his fingers. Checo winces as Nico pushes in again, closing his lips around his fingers and obediently sucking the come off, letting Nico stroke his hair as he fucks his mouth with his fingers.

“That’s it, good boy,” Nico croons as Checo makes a helpless noise, the taste of come starting to make him feel a bit sick. “What’s the matter, thought you loved having things in your mouth?”

He laughs obnoxiously as he pulls his fingers out, wiping a stray tear from Checo’s eye with his thumb. Checo swallows as Nico leans over to the bedside cabinet and grabs a tissue, wiping the rest of the come off of Checo’s stomach before he jumps off the bed and chucks it in the bin. Checo sits up and groans, the stinging pain in his ass much more noticeable now that there’s nothing to distract him.

“Hey, do you have a balcony?”

Nico shrugs as he undoes his shirt.

“What you see is what you get.”

Checo grumbles under his breath and pushes himself off the bed, digging his pack of cigarettes out from his bag. He gets dressed and goes to put his shirt on, but he realises he only came to the room with his team gear, and he bites his fist and quietly screams.

“What’s wrong now?” Nico asks, exasperation bleeding through in his tone.

“Do you have a hoodie I can wear? I don’t want my team shirt to smell like smoke.”

“Oh, but my shit smelling like smoke is_ fine,” _Nico hums as he looks through his wardrobe. He throws a thick grey hoodie at Checo, and Checo pulls it over his naked torso, humming as he realises how soft it is. “Don’t get ash on it, I’ll kill you.”

_ You’ll kill me anyway, _ Checo thinks to himself as he wanders down to the smoking area. It’s a stuffy night, and the smoking area is adequately dull; it’s a secluded courtyard round the very back of the hotel, and he leans against a wall, sweat already dripping down his forehead. _ Fucking Singapore, _he thinks as he checks the time on his phone; 1:54am. Not many people will be out this late, especially in this part of the hotel, so he should be okay vis-à-vis not being recognised.

The first drag is never enough, but after a few more he’s a decent way down the cigarette, the taste of tobacco far overpowering the lingering taste of come. He coughs as the smoke comes back and stings his eyes, and he groans, holding his cigarette low as he waits for his eyes to stop watering.

“Checo?”

He jumps, narrowly avoiding screaming in shock. Daniel’s standing lamely in front of him, looking a little shocked at Checo’s reaction, but Checo doesn’t know what he was expecting, coming up behind him like that.

“Sorry, I just-I was out with Jev, and then I was looking for my room, and I got lost, so I came down here because I thought it was the way back to my room, and-” He’s babbling nervously, and Checo wonders what he thinks he’s going to do to him. “Sorry. I...are you smoking?”

Checo looks at his dying cigarette and sighs, stubbing it out on the ground in front of him.

“Not anymore,” he replies, sounding more miserable than he meant to. “Want me to walk you back?”

Daniel nods, his expression calmer now, but neither of them move. Checo looks down awkwardly and coughs, and Daniel steps tentatively closer. Checo sighs again, shoving his hands in his pockets and sitting down against the wall, wincing as the pain sears through his skin. Daniel sits beside him, looking a little concerned.

“Aren’t you hot?”

“Yeah. Are you?”

Daniel shrugs.

“Kind of, I guess.” He tugs at the collar of his thin shirt. “This is pretty light, so…”

Checo nods, and it’s only when he looks up that he sees that Daniel’s still staring at him.

“You good?”

Daniel coughs and nods, looking down at the floor.

“I actually, uh…” He sounds a little awkward, but his demeanor is cool as anything. “I kinda saw you from where I was coming in, and I wanted to make sure you were alright out here on your own.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, you looked upset.”

Checo blushes, and he hopes Daniel puts it down to the warm weather.

“I’m okay, just...couldn’t sleep.”

“I’ll go if you want-”

“No!” He balks at how quick he was to say that. “No, I just-I should get back to my room, really.”

Daniel purses his lips and nods, standing up with a grunt. He offers his hand to Checo who, after a moment of consideration, takes it. They head back inside in silence, and Checo knows he can’t take him back to Nico’s room, or he’ll know, so when they’re at the right floor he excuses himself, saying he’ll be okay from here. He’s not expecting Daniel to lightly grab his sleeve, stopping him in the doorway of the lift.

“Hey, y’know if you ever want to talk about anything then, like…I’m here, yeah? I know we don’t talk much, but...I’m here.”

Checo blinks. He resists the temptation to close his hand over Daniel’s fingers and just smiles instead, nodding and stepping out of the lift, still facing Daniel.

“Thanks. Goodnight, Daniel.”

“G’night Checo.”

The lift doors close and Daniel’s gone, and Checo’s left alone in a hotel corridor, wearing his teammate’s hoodie, smelling of smoke. As hard as he tries to forget it, he finds himself yearning to feel more of Daniel’s light touches, to hear his voice again, and not for the first time tonight, he balls his hand into a fist, bites down hard, and screams silently into the void.


End file.
